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He Let Our Baby Die for His Mistress,I Left and Never Looked Back Novel Cover

He Let Our Baby Die for His Mistress,I Left and Never Looked Back

When a tragic accident claims her child, she watches her husband, Lorenzo Falcone, drive right past her bleeding body to shield his mistress from the gruesome sight. Ignored and abandoned in her darkest hour, she returns home only to discover evidence of his betrayal hidden in their bedroom. With her marriage shattered and her grief fueling a quiet resolve, she decides to sever ties with the Falcone syndicate. Dialing his greatest rival, Don Moretti, she prepares to defect to his enemy's family.
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Chapter 2

At that thought.

I knocked my fork to the floor and reached down with trembling fingers to pick it up.

By the time I'd straightened up, Lorenzo was already past the foyer of the estate.

He didn't look back, just tossed out a line as he hurried off: "Something came up at the social club. I'll have a car take you next time."

Half an hour later, I limped into the front office above the club and dropped into my chair.

For some reason, the looks the associates around me gave me were mostly tinged with pity.

When I went to fill my cup near the back room, I caught two of them whispering.

"So Don Falcone really cut Adriana loose to keep that Bianca girl close?"

"Obviously. You should've seen it this morning. Bianca got her period and stained her skirt a little.

And the Don, right there in front of every capo waiting on the sit-down, scooped her up bridal-style and carried her into the top-floor room himself."

The mug slipped from my hand and shattered.

The gossip cut off mid-sentence.

I crouched down, quietly gathering the shards, and dropped every last one into the trash.

I worked late, until ten at night.

A sudden weight settled over my shoulders.

It was Lorenzo, draping his suit jacket around me.

"Adriana, I texted you. Why didn't you answer?"

I didn't turn around. I just woke my phone and glanced at the unread message:

【What flavor of bubble tea do girls usually like?】

Three years ago, I'd given in to the trend like everyone else and asked Lorenzo to buy me the first bubble tea of autumn.

Back then, Lorenzo had looked me over with open distaste.

"Adriana, you're a woman pushing thirty. Don't disgust me with this silly nonsense."

But now, here was Lorenzo, bringing me a cup of bubble tea unprompted.

Seeing that I hadn't touched it and kept working.

Something flickered across his face.

"Weren't you the one nagging about wanting this stuff?"

I brushed him off without thinking.

"It's too late. If I drink it, I won't sleep."

A brief silence. The ice in his untouched glass on the desk shifted, the only sound in the room.

The man said coldly, "I'm going to the restroom, then we'll go home together."

Half a minute later, the phone Lorenzo had set on my desk lit up.

A message from Bianca.

【Lorenzo, you big silly~ Who sends dozens of cups of bubble tea all at once?

You're not actually trying to turn me into a little piggy, are you? trembling~】

We got back to the estate a little after eleven.

I walked into the bedroom and started packing up my personal things.

Fresh out of the shower, Lorenzo walked in and immediately noticed how much emptier the vanity looked.

He frowned.

"Adriana, I'm handling business in Paris next month. Make a list of anything you want me to bring back for you."

I answered without missing a beat.

"No need to bother. I don't need anything."

I was leaving in a few days anyway.

Why go through the motions.

Lorenzo threw his towel onto the bed and fixed me with an icy stare. He rolled the heavy gold signet ring once around his finger.

"So just because I brought home a breakfast that wasn't to your taste, you're going to keep throwing this tantrum, is that it?"

I'd just opened my mouth to explain that I wasn't angry.

When the man let out a scoff.

"You know I hate women who put on an act. Adriana, you've crossed a line."

He walked into the study and slammed the door hard.

Seven years bound to him, and Lorenzo had started countless cold wars.

And I had humbled myself countless times to make peace.

But this time, I truly didn't care. My fingers found the thin red cord at my wrist, and for once I didn't reach for him.

Lorenzo spent the entire night in the study, and not once did he hear a knock at the door.

The next morning, I made breakfast for two as usual.

Just as I'd finished my own portion and was about to head to the club.

Lorenzo came out of the study with frost written all over his face.

He held up his phone and ordered me, his voice prickling with irritation:

"Adriana, you've got the day off. Make me an exact copy of this fondant cake before five this afternoon."

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